


Tonight, She Would Know. (One-Shot)

by Ren_egade



Category: BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, mha, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Depression, F/M, One Shot, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23943748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren_egade/pseuds/Ren_egade
Summary: A one-shot of Shouta helping his long-term girlfriend fight through a panic attack.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Reader, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Original Character(s), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Original Female Character(s), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Reader
Kudos: 52





	Tonight, She Would Know. (One-Shot)

His hand rummaged the pocket of his black jogger sweats, pulling out his keys, searching for the custom piece of metal Rai had made for him. It stood out immediately. His girlfriend had chosen to make it white, complete with a cat face design. His lips curved into a small smirk when he’d glanced at it before unlocking the door.

Shouta slipped his shoes off, in exchange for his house slippers at the entrance to Rai’s apartment. The realization that the apartment was darker than usual made him uneasy. His steps were cautious, despite his instinctive, immediate need to find her. 

The only light he could see was rippling out from the kitchen. He peered into the room, spotting Rai kneeling against the white cabinet, crying so quietly that her only tell was her trembling shoulders, her back to him.

“Rai,” he hurried to her, registering that her face was buried into her fisted hands.  
“What’s wrong?” 

A whimper answered him—a devastating sound despite its low volume. His long, slender fingers encircled her wrists. Her name echoed from his lips.  
“Hey, I’m here.” He gently applied pressure, her arms tensing before giving way. Her face was flushed, indicating she’d been holding in sobs and screams.

“Rairakku, honey, look at me.” Her wrists were still cradled in his hands, on her lap. Her features contorted in agony, a misery he felt in the depths of his very soul. He took her chin into his palms, her fingers grasping his forearms, acknowledging her boyfriend’s efforts to open the lacerating chamber she was enclosed in. 

Shouta knew that the second this behemoth reared it’s head, it always managed to blur her perception of reality, it’s debilitating grip on her like an unrelenting venom, seeping into her veins, her tendons, her very bones.  
She could only heed its belittling taunts, the oppressive weight of its vilification in her chest. 

He called out her name into the chasm where she was being held. “Look at me. Please.” His heart urged her emerald eyes to open, the indication that she’d escaped its tenacious talons.

He repeated his invitation one last time before dissolving the air that separated them, enveloping her in his arms. It would not release her so easily this time.

He felt the warm dampness of her tears drench his shirt, her hand desperately clutching the material. 

“Breathe,” he murmured into her ear, “breathe, babe.” He felt her lungs shudder in response, evidence that she was fighting tooth and nail to leave her prison.

“Shh,” he soothed, his fingertips whispering along the length of her spine. It seemed an eternity, but he eventually felt her body soften against his chest.

“Sho—“ she croaked weakly.  
He shushed her softly. “It’s okay—you’re okay.”  
Shouta shifted in effort to stop kneeling, to return to his previous crouch, but was met with a silent plea—a despairing clasp of his shirt. “No.”

“I’m not going anywhere, love.” He reassured her, her gaze meeting his. He didn’t move until her grip waned, bolstering himself up. Her body slumped against the kitchen cabinets, her tired eyes watching him. He shifted her frame until he could manage to slip his left arm under her knees, his right supporting her back.

He sat her on the kitchen counter, her bare thighs on either side of him. Her hands slipped under his shirt, gripping his sides, as if to solidify his presence to her. 

Shouta caressed her legs, watching her intently. She beckoned him, willing him to destroy the void between them.

Her lips met his in desperation, her palms ventured further up his chest, seeking out more contact. She tugged at the material, slipping it off him entirely, her mouth seeking his. Shouta’s arms coaxed her figure to conform to his, desperately needing to comfort her, to kiss the wounds that she so bravely avenged against her attacker.

His hand delved into her lilac locks, grasping the strands as his grip pulled her head back, his lips slipping from hers, down her jawline, to her neck, grazing, sucking, and nipping the delicate skin. Her soft scent intoxicating, her warm breaths against his ear almost too much for him to bear.

No words were needed, as his hands whispered all the things he couldn’t say, poetry sprouting from his callous fingertips. They kneaded her flesh, massaging and caressing her form, reassurance in every movement.

“I love you so much, Shouta,” she murmured into his ear, her warm breath teasing the sensitive skin. Her hands lost in the dark lengths of his hair.

“I love you, Rairakku,” he avowed between kisses. “More than you could ever know.”  
His strong hands slipped under her haunches, lifting her from the cold granite.  
Her legs crossed behind his back, as he headed towards her room, one palm supporting her under the seat of her shorts, the other feeling out his path, his lips refusing to abandon hers.

He would show her that the demon lied—she was his oasis, his shelter from the screeching demands of his responsibilities, the quiet spring he could always find renewal in. She wasn’t just wanted—she was needed. He refused to know a world without her presence. Tonight, she would know.


End file.
